Dean got on his motorcycle. “I better head back to work, too. See you later Henry to review history?”
“Yeah.” Henry nodded. When he heard Dean start the bike, Henry prepared to hop on for a ride, but Dean took off. “Hey!” He called out. “Shit. Now I have to walk.” In a wincing manner he started walking off. “As if my life isn’t hard enough...”
Joe and Jason didn’t know how long but they stared at the closed Quantum door in shock and speechlessness.
Slowly Joe faced Jason. “You sent them through? Returning or arriving?”
“My guess . . . returning.” Jason picked up the pendant Henry had laid on the counter.
“Did they have to divert something? Make things different? Like with Dean?”
“Highly doubtful.” Jason said. “If it was a planned trip I would have had the foresight to send a note for myself. No, Joe.” Jason exhaled. “I think our three stooges of time did something and I sent them back to fix it. And if I sent them back.” A long whistle came from Jason. “It must have been bad.”
“Next question,” Joe said. “If our little time travelers just floated into this lab, what the hell happened to the Frankie, Cranky and Spanky that were be-bopping about Beginnings a few minutes ago?”
The doors to the chapel in town banged loudly but they paled in comparison to the loud, deep screams that came from Dr. Andrea Winters. Hysterical and shrill shrieks came from her as she ran around frantically, hands waving in the air, zigzagging through the town.
From her hover over her microscope, Ellen Slagel lifted her dark blonde hair from her eyes when she raised her head to the sounds of Andrea’s scream. “Dean?” She turned her head to the right. Oddly enough, Dean wasn’t there. To her left she turned her view to Johnny Slagel who sat across the lab. “Johnny, where did Dean go?”
“Don’t know.” Johnny continued in his work. “Hey, is that Andrea screaming out there?”
“Yeah.” Looking once more to where Dean was a moment before hand, Ellen shrugged and went back to viewing her microscope.
Pulling Frank’s office door closed, Greg, a bigger and stocky security guy stopped before walking any further. He gave an irritated shake of his body, turned and knocked on the door. “Frank, “he called out as he opened it. “Sorry, I forgot my . . .” Greg froze. “Frank?” The small security office was empty. “Um, Frank. I forgot my clipboard.” He walked to the desk and grabbed the clipboard he had left behind. “Where the hell did he go?” After wondering if maybe Frank had hurried and slipped into the closet to take a nap, Greg turned around to leave. As he did, Frank walked in through the office door. Greg, again, froze in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” Frank asked.
Greg said nothing. He looked at Frank, looked back to the empty desk, and took off from the office.
^^^^
Former Quantico Marine Headquarters
It seemed like massive pandemonium the way military truck after military truck packed with people, were lined up just inside the main front gates. Caceres Society soldiers formed a blockade around the trucks. But it was far from pandemonium. It was the return of the highly successful and highly organized survivor sweeps that the society did. Sweeps that would build the population needed to work the armies and industries the Caceres Society planned to rebuild.
Even though he was the former president of the United States, George Hadley felt like the uniformed flunky leader of the society. He knew what was going on, yet he was far from in total control. Everyone else performed the task. And sequential leaders in the society handed out most orders. George expected that much. After all, the lower ladder leaders were in charge and running things when George himself was inside trying, but failing, to take over Beginnings.
George watched whom he considered his top men, Sgt. Timothy Doyle, who ran the military portion and training, and Steward Lange. Steward was not only the best ‘Peace Ambassador’ as they called them for the sweeps, but also George’s right hand man. Trusted by George because George had known him long before the plague had wiped out the world.
Update time. And George knew the news was good when he saw a smiling Steward head his way.
“Moving them in?” George asked. “Big crew. Are we setting up new sectors?”
“Won’t need to,” Steward answered. “Camp masters in sectors twenty-four through thirty report they have enough to ship out. Agriculture further west needs hands. Also, we are moving people to industries, both north and south.”
“Excellent. What about soldiers?”
Steward smiled again. “Sgt. Doyle is proud to report that he has capable men he can send out to the Minnesota and Alabama installations.”
“Who will be in charge out there?”
“Sergeants Mason and Greene.”
George nodded. “Any news on our perpetrators last night?”
Steward shook his head. “Definitely they are not coming in packs but individually. It’s easy to slip through our perimeters. How much information is missing?”
“Nothing we don’t have back up on but it’s still information we don’t want in their hands.”
“Do you think it’s Beginnings?” Steward asked.
“How?” George tossed his hands up. “Our inside person says they haven’t a clue where we are. Then again it’s hard to get good information when we’re dealing with Morse code.”
“We’re working on that.” Steward said. “Phone line computers aren’t coming back up. Hey, at least we have power.”
George grumbled. “We have to find out who came in here last night. They obviously came in for a reason and got what they sought. Where they are, is the next question.”
Sgt. Doyle interrupted. “I may have an answer.”
George turned to him. “What do you have?”
“With some concerns we had over the past couple days, concerns myself and Mr. Lange hadn’t taken serious,” Sgt. Doyle explained. “When I received this information, it made sense.” He read off a clipboard. “Our moving teams reported what they believe is a small camp of civilization about ten miles northwest from here near a town called Bethel. They weren’t there last week.” Sgt. Doyle raised his eyes. “Whoever broke in here last night was close enough to get here by foot. And check out the numbers. Our people said between forty and fifty . . . all men.”
George’s attention was caught. “Possibly our recently defected?”
Sgt. Doyle grinned. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Ha!” George snatched the clipboard from Sgt. Doyle’s hand and looked at it only after smacking Steward with the object. “And you two said they were nothing to worry about.”
Steward interjected, “The camp could be the perpetrators, but we can’t be sure they’re our defectors.”
Refraining from hitting Steward again, George shook his head. “The numbers match up. We had forty-two slip out last week.” He handed the clipboard back to Sgt. Doyle. “Send a two man team to scout out this camp. Watch for a few hours and get back to us.” He received a nod from Sgt. Doyle. “And make sure they know Morse code. I don’t feel like waiting a goddamn half hour for a four word message.”
With a chuckle, Sgt. Doyle stepped back. “Yes sir.”
Pleased and proud, George watched Sgt. Doyle walk off. He then noticed the looks he was getting from Steward. “What!” He barked.
Steward took a deep breath. “I have to get back to work. Just . . . just let me leave you with this.” He took a courage filled pause. “You are worried about forty-two men when we have what? Over six thousand right here?”
George didn’t flinch at the blast of reality Steward gave him. He was so used to living in Beginnings, forty men sounded like a massive take over. And even though George could have been viewed by others as an overreacting, ranting fool, he kept up the ‘concerned and threatened’ exterior. He had to. Even if he himself secretively had to pull some of the more stupid society recruits aside, tell them it was a drill, and set up a violent raid on Quantico, he would. Geo
rge wasn’t about to be proven wrong. Ever.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
Hands in pockets making a jingling sound with his keys, Joe walked down the main corridor of the clinic. He could see Dean standing outside the lab door, looking frazzled. Pacing a little, probably a habit picked up from hanging around Henry. “Dean.”
Dean let out a breath. “Joe.” He tossed his head back. “Thank God.”
“Is she in there?” Joe twitched his head to the door.
Dean nodded. “Hysterical too. I can’t calm her. Andrea says she won’t leave or step outside until she speaks to you.”
“Is Ellen in there now with her?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, but Ellen’s working so Andrea’s just sitting there . . . crying.”
Joe moaned. “What am I supposed to do?”
Dean just shrugged. “She wants you.”
Another moan and Joe reached for the door.
“Joe.” Dean grabbed his wrist. “She’s really upset, so . . . be compassionate.”
Joe nodded and stepped into the lab. He looked at Andrea sitting on a chair, her arms folded close to her. Sounds of her shivering sobs carried out intermittently with her hysterical, ‘Sweet Jesus, Sweet Jesus’.
“Compassion, Joe.” Dean whispered then moved to Ellen who was giggling. He nudged her to get her to quit.
Another step, another cry, another wince from Joe. “Andrea.” Joe spoke up. “What in Christ’s name is wrong with you?”
Frightened was how her cry was when Andrea sprang from her chair and leaped at Joe. “Henry’s gone.”
“Henry’s not gone.” Joe said a bit annoyed, removing Andrea’s tight grip. “Sit down.”
“He’s gone, gone. Gone.” She sat down and let out a hyperventilating breath. “It’s the . . .” Her voice graveled with deepened fear. “It’s the rapture.”
“The what?” Joe asked.
“The rapture. When the Lord calls us, he calls us and takes us.” She snapped her finger. “Took Henry right before my eyes. Sweet Jesus. Sweet Jesus.” She rocked back and forth shaking her head. “I knew he was a good boy. I knew it. And the Lord called him home. Right before my eyes he turned into blue and silver sparkles, faded then disappeared.”
“He did, did he?” Joe asked looking at Dean.
Andrea nodded and seeped another sob. “The apocalypse is upon us.”
“Andrea, Christ.” Joe snapped. “The apocalypse was upon us six years ago.”
“No!” Andrea stood up. “The Lord’s apocalypse. It’s judgment day, Joe.” She grabbed his arms. “Judgment day. He’s calling his chosen home.”
“Well, he doesn’t have that many to choose from so I guess we’re all in luck.” Joe said.
“Joseph!” Andrea gasped out. “This is not a joke. When you stand before the doors of salvation wondering why you can’t get in then you’ll know.”
“Andrea, calm down.” Joe tried to sooth her in his own way, of course. “There’s a logical explanation for all this.”
“How?” She asked. “How can you explain Henry Kusakari disappearing before my eyes?”
Dean calmly had the answer as he stepped to her “Menopause.”
“What?” Andrea looked at him.
“Christ.” Joe rolled his eyes and stepped back.
“Yes.” Dean nodded rational. “Some woman experience hot flashes, some mood swings. A lot, more than you know of, experience seeing people disappear before their eyes. It’s the lower estrogen level causing a chemical imbalance in the brain.”
With a hidden, but still heard laughter, Ellen held up her hand. “Excuse me.” She covered her mouth and raced from the room.
“Dr. Hayes.” Andrea sounded offended. “Are you making a mockery of my mature woman stature because you can’t accept the Lord’s judgment?”
“I’m not.” Dean held up his hand. “Henry is not . . .” He raised his eyes and smiled. “He’s not gone. See?” He pointed to Henry in the door.
Andrea turned to look and then she screamed jumping back.
Henry screamed. “What!” He spun looking quickly behind him fearful that Andrea saw a mouse. When he turned back around, Andrea had pelted herself at him and embraced him.
“See, Andrea.” Dean walked up to behind her and patted her on the back. “Menopause. Just be prepared the next time it happens.” He smiled and brushed by her and Henry as he walked out.
“Dean.” Henry jolted his head. “Excuse me, Andrea.” He pulled her arms from him. “Dean, wait. I have to talk to you about history.”
Slowly Joe approached Andrea.
“I feel so silly.” Andrea said. “Acting like that over a menopause side effect…running amuck like a fool.”
“Don’t you worry your little menopausal head about it.” Joe laid his hand on her back. “It could be worse. You could act like Frank, Dean and Henry. Then people would really think you’re strange.”
Andrea nodded her agreement.
^^^^
Attempts at trying to work were futile. Frank sat behind his desk staring at the stack of reports at least two inches high. But he couldn’t lift one of them. His mind was cluttered, far off. His brain wrestled about wondering where he went wrong. What did he do? What could he have done? Perhaps the failure in wanting to see his brother in the ‘perfect’ light had a lot to do with the fact that they shouldn’t have been messing around with time. If disappointment was his payback, Frank was drowning in debt.
One thing was for sure, he couldn’t work. He had to find Ellen. Surely if things were back to normal, so were they. Walking instead of taking his bike, Frank headed home. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw Ellen heading toward the living section. “El.” He called out.
Ellen stopped. Pulling her coat closed, she turned around with a smile and waved.
“Hey.” Frank trotted up to her. “Where you off to?”
“Home. Josh picked up the kids. What are you doing?”
Frank shrugged. “Not much. I wanted to work. I have a little headache. El, this is gonna sound dumb. Are we . . . are we O.K.?”
Ellen hesitated in curiosity before answering. “Yeah, why? Did I forget a fight or something?”
“No.” Frank smiled. “Another silly question. What step are we on in the twelve step plan?” Frank cringed, just in case he was wrong.
Ellen laughed a single syllable laugh and pointed. “Now see who’s lacking in the marriage enthusiasm. Ha!” Ellen tossed her head back. “Six.”
“Six.” Frank nodded. “Just checking.”
“I’ve been reading while you were running around with time machine memory loss.” Ellen gave a ‘so there’ look.
“Can we get together and work on it tonight? I know step six is memories. Can we?”
“Sure.” Ellen nodded. “But I must warn you. If you’re gonna pull the chivalrous act and not put out, I’m not doing open mouth kissing. If you keep getting me worked up, I’m gonna have to go home and take it out on poor Henry.” Ellen giggled. “Do you suppose he likes women? I often wonder.” She noticed his far off look as he stared at her. “Frank?”
“I love you.” He laid his hand on her cheek. “I really love you.”
“Are you all right?” Ellen asked with concern. “You seem down.”
“I am. A little.” Frank let out a breath and tried to change the subject. “God, the town’s empty. Where is every . . .” Frank hunched in surprise when the loud rattle, clank, and bangs filled the air. “What the hell?”
“Silly.” Ellen giggled. “Did you forget it’s Friday afternoon? Hence the answer to your question, where everyone is, they are hiding from that.”
Frank winced. “Is that . . . drums?”
“I often ask the same question when Denny warms up.”
Frank’s head lifted in surprise. “Denny? Andrea’s Denny is playing drums?”
“Yeah, Frank.” Ellen said. “He plays with the band? Remember?”
“What band?” Frank asked
his enthusiasm rising.
“The Starters. Beginnings band.”
“Who . . .” Frank stepped backward to where the noise supposedly came from. “Who started it?”
“Paul did when . . . hey!” Ellen yelled when she saw Frank take off. She chased him.
Into the social hall Frank flew banging the door open on his entrance. The drums stopped. “Denny.” He gasped out. “Oh, my God.” And when he saw Paul turn around with the bass, he laughed like an excited kid. “Paul!” Frank shrieked in enthusiasm. “Shit! Good to see you!”
Eyes going from guitar to Frank, Paul gave an odd look. “Yeah, you too, Frank.”
But Frank still searched. His eyes shifted. Paul was there. Denny was there. And as soon as he went to ask himself the final question, he felt the grip to his arm and heard the whisper in his ear.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Glad you came. We did learn the song for you.”
Frank felt the flutter of his stomach. And the swat to his back dropped his heart to the pit of his soul. He couldn’t breathe, especially when from behind, with a wide grin, stepped . . . Robbie.
“No dancing, Frank. We know how you are.” Robbie gave a chuckle and took a step to the stage.
“Robbie.” The words ached as they came from Frank and he reached out and grabbed his brother’s arm. He pulled him back. And when Robbie turned to face Frank, Frank locked a stare onto him, eyes to eyes, deeply. Releasing Robbie’s arm, Frank took a step and laid both of his huge hands on Robbie’s cheeks. He pulled him closer, looking into Robbie’s blue eyes as if he were reaching and looking into Robbie’s soul. “It’s there.” Frank whispered out.
“Uh . . . Frank?” Robbie said with a slight smile. “You aren’t gonna kiss me, are you? I feel a romantic incestuous entanglement creeping up.”
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 185